To Love Another
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Drummond never made it to dinner.


**A/N: I'm still mourning Drummond's death. I knew it would happy but I'd hoped Alfred would at least get to say goodbye. Instead, Drummond died whilst Alfred thought he didn't show at their second date because he hated him. Fuck ITV. Anyway. This probably sounds like it's going to be sad, but I swear it's not.**

* * *

Drummond never made it to dinner.

Alfred waited for a long time - it must have been hours - but Drummond never showed, so he left, inwardly cursing himself for pushing away the best thing he had ever had. The journey back to the palace was long, and he was more than happy to climb into bed as soon as he arrived in his rooms. He slept fitfully, but in the morning he was determined to put Drummond and whatever they had had behind him, as it was clear the other man had already done so.

* * *

He almost bumped into Peel in the hallways and, despite himself, noticed Drummond's absence. Although, he reasoned, Drummond _was_ Peel's personal secretary so his not being there was rather conspicuous. A part of him yearned to ask after Drummond, but Alfred told himself that he was likely dealing with some paperwork after the vote the previous night, so he let the Prime Minister pass him by. It was probably best Alfred didn't bother Peel anyway; he had a distinctive haggard look on his face and appeared to be in quite a rush. Alfred nodded to himself and walked on, pushing back the ache in his heart.

* * *

He didn't get the news until later that day. Wilhelmina had asked him for his opinion on her piano playing, and he had only been too happy to indulge the girl. She had been a good friend to him over the months spent at the palace, and it was good to have a distraction from his thoughts. She was in the middle of Chopin when there was a knock at the door.

Alfred turned around and drew in a sharp gasp as he saw Drummond stood in the doorway. He was holding himself rather stiffly, but his eyes were soft and pleading as they locked onto Alfred's.

"I wonder if I may have a word with you, Lord Alfred?" he asked formally, for the benefit of the two ladies.

"Certainly," Alfred said, but made no movement towards Drummond.

"It is a delicate matter; perhaps it would be better if we speak alone," Drummond tried desperately.

A refusal was on Alfred's lips - he had given Drummond a chance to be alone and Drummond had wasted it; why should Alfred indulge him now - but the duchess made an exceptionally unladylike noise and hauled herself to her feet.

"If the poor man wants to speak with you alone you ought to let him," she scolded. "Come, Wilhelmina. Let's leave the men to it." She started towards the door, but Alfred moved to stop her, embarrassed.

"Really, Duchess, that's really not necessary. I'll just-"

"Apparently it is necessary," she cut in. "Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?"

Before Alfred had a chance to reply, she was marching out the room. Wilhelmina scampered after her, sending a helpless, apologetic back at Alfred. He felt a blush rise on his cheeks as they left, leaving him alone with Drummond.

* * *

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment, the tension hanging heavy between them.

"Last night-" Drummond started, but Alfred turned away. He couldn't face this conversation yet, not without something strong to go with it, at least.

"Brandy?" he offered, pouring a glass. Drummond nodded, so Alfred poured a second glass and handed it to Drummond. He reached for it with his right hand, but suddenly cried out in pain and hunched over, grabbing his upper arm. Alarmed, Alfred abandoned the brandy on the table and grasped Drummond's left shoulder.

"Drummond? Are you alright?"

Drummond didn't reply, and Alfred's worry went up a notch. He guided his friend to a chair and knelt down next to him, never breaking contact.

"Are you alright?" he repeated when he noticed Drummond's face had cleared a little.

Drummond nodded and a wave of relief washed over Alfred. He got up from his position on the floor and slid into the chair opposite Drummond, eyeing him in concern.

"What happened?"

"You may have already heard, but the repeal bill for the Corn Laws was passed last night-"

"Excellent news; congratulations Drummond!" Alfred exclaimed, a smile lighting up his face.

Drummond's lips curled upwards in a small smile, though his gaze remained downturned. "Yes, well, many members of the Conservative Party weren't too happy with the result, and they blamed the Prime Minister for it. As we left the House a man with a gun attempted to kill Sir Robert. I managed to push him out the way, but the bullet lodged in my arm when I did so. That's why I didn't show last night." He finally met Alfred's eyes, and Alfred could see deep guilt and sorrow in them. "Alfred, I'm so sorry; I should have sent word but-"

Alfred shook his head, cutting Drummond off. "I don't blame you, Edward," he said, and he a warm feeling replaced the pain in his chest at the way Drummond smiled when Alfred used his first name. "Why, you shouldn't even be here! You should be recovering at home." _With Florence_. Alfred didn't say her name, but the words hung between them like a black cloud, and Alfred's good mood began to dissipate.

"I had to come see you," Drummond whispered. "To explain myself. And to say that- that-" he stuttered, the words sticking in his throat. He sighed and looked back at the carpet. "That if you want nothing more to do with me, I understand. I will marry Florence in a month's time, and you and I will be nothing more than acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will. It is up to you, Alfred."

"Drummond..." Alfred sighed. "Edward, how could you think that is what I want? I never did, but we must think about our futures. You are going to be a great man someday, and I can't help but wonder if breaking off the engagement will jeopardise that? You are a young man, about to be married; it would create a scandal."

"I don't care," Drummond said firmly. "Besides, it is not only I that I am thinking of. Florence... she is a kind, beautiful, devoted girl, and I fear that I could not make her as happy as she deserves. I care for her, it is true, but not as a man should care for his wife, and not as deeply as I care for you, Alfred."

Alfred started to protest, but Drummond held up a hand. "It is true. I cannot deny it anymore, and I know you feel as I do. Please, Alfred, just consider this."

Unable to stand Drummond's intense stare any longer, Alfred stood up suddenly and turned away. A smile broke out on his face, but he forced it back as he formulated a response. He heard Drummond get up and move behind him so, quickly checking that there was nobody outside the doors, he spun round and kissed Drummond hard. Drummond made a muffled noise of surprise before kissing back just as forcefully.

They could have gone on like that for several minutes, but Alfred drew back and smiled up at Drummond, who looked slightly stunned.

"Meet me at Ciro's tomorrow night. Perhaps this time we'll make it to the oysters." He flashed Drummond a smile and left the room, barely able to contain his excitement. Perhaps his earlier decision to leave Drummond alone had been too hasty after all.

* * *

 **A/N: And here's what should've happened. Or my interpretation of it anyway. I'm working on a few other Drumfred fics with varying degrees of pain, so keep an eyes out. Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!**


End file.
